That Wild Boy
by Blood and Dark Chocolate
Summary: The boy was running wild again. Astrid Hofferson watched him trundle off with his rolling contraption for a moment, then turned back to fill her bucket with more water. No good could come of getting involved in Hiccup's messes, everyone knew that. HTTYD from Astrid's POV. Canon-compliant.
1. Chapter 1: Putting Out Fires

**Disclaimer: I own no part of the How To Train Your Dragon franchise.**

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 **Chapter 1: Putting Out Fires**

The boy was running wild again. Astrid Hofferson watched him trundle off with his rolling contraption for a moment, then turned back to fill her bucket with more water. No good could come of getting involved in Hiccup's messes, everyone knew that. Besides, someone would probably stop him before he got too far.

The Fire Brigade was a useless job; none of them ever managed to put out any fires, but at least she could watch the other Vikings fight instead of cowering in the Great Hall with the younger children. She always made sure the Brigade stayed as close to the chief as possible.

No one could wrestle a dragon quite like Stoick the Vast. She watched him help a few of the others subdue a gang of Deadly Nadders with ease. She could never replicate his fighting style; after all, he fought with his brute strength and sheer mass, neither of which she had. But one day, she would be just as great a Viking as he was. Bards would weave her prowess into song, and tales of her daring would be told around campfires. She would be the Shieldmaiden of Berk, scourge to dragons everywhere.

She dumped her bucket out on a mostly destroyed barn, then paused and surveyed her surroundings. "Snotlout, Fishlegs, let's move the water wagon over to Mulch's house, that entire neighborhood is on fire," she instructed, already heading in that direction.

"Um... Astrid, we're almost out!" The perpetual whine of worry was stronger than usual in Fishlegs' voice.

Tuffnut looked up from where he was fighting his twin for control of a bucket, letting go of it so his sister catapulted backwards into the dirt. "Who cares? We're going to have to help rebuild everything in the morning anyway."

"Yeah, we should go try to kill one of the smaller dragons instead, before they all fly away." Ruffnut rose from the ground, hung the bucket on one of the horns of her brother's helmet, and brushed herself off.

Snotlout ran up beside Astrid, turning so that he was jogging backwards in front of her. "Hey babe, I bet I could kill a Gronckle, no problem. Wanna come watch? I'll give you its wings to mount in your room, if you want." He'd always been loud and annoying, but hitting adolescence had turned him into a true nuisance. She rolled her eyes, then struggled to control a grin when he tripped over a rock and landed hard in an empty cart.

Perhaps the twins had a point. In any case, the intensity of the fires had lessened, the damp wood and the cold weather doing most of the work. The first stirrings of dawn could be seen on the horizon, and the dragons were slowly departing, taking their loot with them. Her arms were starting to ache as the adrenaline of the night wore off and the exhaustion set in. With any luck, her home hadn't been destroyed during the attack, and she could get a few hours of sleep in her own bed, instead of crowding into the Mead Hall with all the other temporarily homeless villagers.

A familiar whistle sounded above the chaos, and the Brigade rushed to take cover under the eaves of the Armory as the Night Fury struck the last catapult still standing on the cliffs above them. Astrid peered out into the darkness. The monster usually didn't strike objects that were closer to the ground, but you could never be to careful. She stepped away from the building, dodging a Zippleback explosion as she made for the water wagon.

Suddenly, the unmistakeable screams of a fifteen year old boy pierced the air. Turning towards the source of the noise, Astrid spotted the scrawny form of Hiccup being chased into the center of the village, a Monstrous Nightmare hot on his tail. The wheeled contraption that had accompanied him earlier was nowhere to be seen, but it wasn't hard to guess what had happened. He had probably angered the dragon while mistakenly trying to slay it, and now he cowered from its wrath, using one of the giant torch towers as a shield.

He didn't have to worry for long. Stoick came bounding up from the lower banks of the village and made short work of the beast, pummeling it into retreat. But the damage was already done. With a tremendous crash, the torch tower collapsed, its supporting beam eaten away by the Nightmare's fire. The giant fire put that rested atop the tower rolled down the path that the chief had just climbed, destroying everything along the way.

Great. More clean-up work. Astrid had been hoping to take her newly balanced double-bladed axe out for a trial run in the woods this afternoon, but the repairs for this disaster alone would probably take a few days. She watched the last of the dragons make off with another dozen sheep as the chief chewed out his son for this newest debacle.

"-winter is almost here, and I have an entire village to feed!"

"Uh... Between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't ya think?" A wry smile tugged at Astrid's lips as Fishlegs patted his stomach disconsolately. Hiccup's humor in the face of his father's anger was amusing, but he was doing nothing to help his situation. The idiot would never learn.

She turned toward her parents' hut, sauntering over as the tirade continued. Her axe was still tucked away where she'd left it earlier, under the wooden front steps. A slight coating of ash covered its usually gleaming surface. Astrid hauled it over to the barrels that the Fire Brigade had appropriated as a resting spot, and settled back to watch the rest of the show.

Everyone in the Hairy Hooligan tribe had witnessed some version of this sermon before. Stoick's tirade after the Big Bertha Debacle, so dubbed because Hiccup had made some unauthorized tweaks to the village's biggest catapult culminating with the demolition of the docks, had been a particularly memorable occasion. Her father's favorite was the Snoggletog Explosion, when Hiccup had given his father an mechanically altered bow for the holidays, resulting in loss of several toes. He would reenact the chief's enraged diatribe on Snoggletog morning every year, while she and her mother rolled around in tears of laughter by the hearth.

"-and I have to just... kill it, you know? It's who I am, Dad." Hiccup's skinny arms mimed killing a dragon.

The chief rubbed his forehead tiredly. "You are many things, Hiccup, but a dragon killer isn't one of them. Get back to the house." He turned to Gobber. "Make sure he gets there. I have his mess to clean up." And with that, Stoick trudged off.

Smacking the back of Hiccup's head, Gobber urged him up the hill to the chief's house. The boy's shoulders were slumped, and every step was plodding as if the weight of his mistake dragged him down. It was clear that his intentions were pure, but he was much too smart for his own good.

"Quite the performance," taunted Tuffnut as the pair trudged by. Ruffnut cackled in agreement. Despite the activities of the night, the twins showed no signs of exhaustion, still jostling each other in an effort to occupy the same space.

Not one to be left out, Snotlout joined in the hassling. "I've never seen anyone mess up that badly before. That helped!" He motioned to the distant shadow of the dragons on the horizon, the faint baaing of sheep still audible on the wind. Gobber grabbed the bully's helmet and pushed him to the ground as they walked by, but the preening moron just laughed, lurching back up and straightening his headgear.

"Thank you, thank you, I was trying..." Sarcasm dripped off Hiccup's words. Astrid felt a spark of pity for him as he climbed the steps to his father's house. What must it be like to be so different, so unable to fit in? He had none of the skills or strength that were a prerequisite for the Viking lifestyle. All he had were strange notions and a propensity for trouble. And that was the last thing anyone needed around here.

All pity vanished as Astrid stood and surveyed the wreckage. She should get as much sleep as she could before the reconstruction began. With any luck, she wouldn't be stuck picking up rubble with Snotlout like last time. Abandoning the other teens to their antics, she strolled back to her house, swinging her axe casually. The whistling of the blade through the air soothed her. As she climbed the stairs and opened the door, she spared one last glare toward the chief's house, then heaved a sigh and headed to bed.

 **-0-0-0-0-0-**

The mid-morning sun pierced through the gaps in her shutters, waking Astrid from a deep, dreamless sleep. Blinking blearily, she shoved her tangled hair from her face. How odd... Usually, her parents woke her an hour or so after sunrise. Her mother believed that proper warriors conquered the day early, whether or not there had been a dragon raid during the night. Not today, apparently.

After pulling on a semi-clean pair of clothes, she trudged down the stairs to the common room. Her father was eating his morning porridge, his unfocused gaze on the blazing hearth. In sharp contrast, her mother was wide awake, packing supplies and gathering weaponry. Astrid plopped down on the bottom step and watched her, absentmindedly braiding her hair. It was clear why they hadn't bothered to wake her.

"Let me guess: you're going out with the search party again."

Aslaug turned towards her daughter, eyebrows raised as she surveyed the teenager. "Indeed we are, lazybones. I'm so glad you could wake from your beauty sleep long enough to say goodbye." She reached over to brush Astrid's bangs aside, giving her a closer look. "No staying out late with your friends while we're gone. You'll need your rest."

"Why? I'll just be helping rebuild, like always. Don't really need extra sleep for that."

"Not this time," mumbled Holger Hofferson around a spoonful of porridge. "The chief has asked Gobber to train some new recruits. You start tomorrow morning."

Finally. Anticipation bubbled up in her stomach, burning away any traces of exhaustion. She had a sudden vision of herself standing over the corpse of a dragon, bloody and triumphant, the village chanting her name. Destiny was finally calling her, she could feel it.

Her father's burst of laughter pulled her from her reverie. "She has the same bloodthirsty look in her eyes that you had when we started dragon training, Aslaug," he chuckled. Her mother spared him a wry glare, then smiled down at Astrid.

"Aye, she'll be the fiercest Viking on Berk by the time we get back."

Astrid bounded up, excitement propelling her toward the door. "Can I skip chores today? I need to practice a few hours with my axe, my backhand swings need some work." She paused to tug on her boots and her shoulder guards.

"As long as the house isn't in total disrepair when we get back," warned her mother. "Don't you at least want breakfast before you go?"

Yes, she would need her strength. She swiveled back toward the dining table, grabbing the bowl of hot porridge her father was holding out for her. She shoveled a few spoonfuls into her mouth, wincing as it burned her tongue.

"Easy there, wolf-cub," grinned Holger. "No need to do yourself any injury yet. Save the bloodshed for the arena."

"And from the sounds of it, there'll be plenty of bloodshed to go around," grumbled his wife as she gathered the shields.

Astrid perked up. "What? Why?"

Her parents exchanged a worried glance.

"Your mother has heard a rumor that..." Her father sighed, running a hand through his bushy blond beard. "That Hiccup is joining the dragon training class as well."

Hiccup the Useless? In dragon training? Astrid gulped down her mouthful of porridge and stared at her father. No, surely not. Just one of her father's practical jokes.

Her mother's serious expression told her otherwise. "You'll need to be extra careful. That boy is reckless, and accidents follow him like flies. Keep your guard up, and don't rely on Gobber to reign him in, because Gobber has a... hands-off approach to dragon training."

Astrid nodded solemnly. Her parents didn't need to worry. She wasn't about to let Hiccup stand in the way of her destiny.


	2. Chapter 2: Dragon Training

**Author's Note: Happy (belated) 4th of July! Thanks to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed the previous chapter.**

 **Before we continue with the story, I want to let you guys know where I'm going with this: I plan to cover the entire first movie from Astrid's point of view (3rd person limited). I'll try my best not to stray from the events and dialogue of the movie, but since the film was shot primarily from Hiccup's perspective, I will be taking some creative license when it comes to interpreting Astrid's character.**

 **In general, I feel that Astrid got a bad rep from the first movie, with criticisms that she was unnecessarily angry and only existed as a reward for Hiccup's heroism. I've seen other fics explain away her behavior by giving her a tragic past or a dark secret. I obviously have no intention of doing so. I see Astrid as very focused and ambitious instead of angry. She's not afraid to go after what she wants full force, and she gets impatient when she feels like others are getting in her way.**

 **As a result, she doesn't really have a friendly relationship with the other kids in the village. They view her as slightly intimidating, occasionally deferring to her leadership, and of course, both Hiccup and Snotlout have huge crushes on her. For the most part, Astrid doesn't really entertain any thoughts about romance, because she's too busy training and trying to be the best warrior she can be.**

 **Anyway, I'm still in the process of writing the fic, but I have a total of ten (maybe eleven) chapters planned.**

 **Sorry for the long AN… without further ado, I present Chapter 2!**

 **Disclaimer: I own no part of the How To Train Your Dragon franchise.**

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 **Chapter 2: Dragon Training**

Astrid rose with the sun, warming and stretching all her muscles carefully. Her arms and core were pleasantly sore from yesterday's axe throwing practice. She grabbed a fresh change of clothes and made her way to the bathhouse on the other side of the village green. She needn't rush; dragon training didn't start til mid morning, and with half the village gone to search the dragon mists, she had the entire women's side of the structure to herself.

Not one to waste such an opportunity, Astrid lounged in the hot spring waters, soaking in the heat and enjoying the quiet peace of the early morning. She used the last of her precious lavender soap to scrub herself; such commodities were rare on Berk, and she had had this small bar for three years now. The last sliver dissolved rapidly in the warm water, but she did not regret using it; after all, she needed to feel her best today.

Heavy clouds lay over the village as she dropped off her dirty clothes at home and strolled up to the Mead Hall for breakfast. This was not unusual; Berk was not known for its balmy weather or tropical warmth. Astrid scaled the stone stairs to the Hall with ease, sidestepping any puddles that had accumulated during last night's shower. She hoped the arena floor was not slippery when wet.

Heaving open the giant doors and slipping into the heat of the hall, Astrid noticed that she was not the only trainee to have gotten an early start. Fishlegs was already seated at one of the tables, inhaling porridge and pouring over a book. Astrid recognized the cover; she had already read the Dragon Manual two years ago, when the last batch of trainees had been running around the arena. Perhaps she should have studied it again during the past summer... well, she could always browse through it later, if she felt the need.

She wolfed down her breakfast and trotted back to her house, making sure that there were no immediate chores that needed doing before grabbing her axe and heading toward the arena. Predictably, she was the first to arrive. She walked once around the chained dome, then settled in to wait for everyone else by the gated entrance.

Fishlegs was the first to show, bearing a small stone hammer. He offered her a nervous smile and sat down to wait on a nearby boulder. His back was to her, but Astrid could hear mumbled conversation drifting from his direction. She leaned forward, listening intently. What was he... was he reciting dragon statistics? Interesting.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut arrived next, sporting matching spears, followed closely by Snotlout, who hefted a studded iron mace over his shoulder. Astrid rolled her eyes as he sauntered up to her, flexing his arms and making suggestive remarks about the size of his mace in correlation to certain anatomical features. When she pointedly ignored him, he retreated to stand with the twins, and soon all three of them were guffawing over some idiocy or other.

Finally, the clunking of Gobber's wooden leg signaled his approach. Astrid leapt to her feet, nervously tossing her axe from one hand to the other. As he came into view, she paused. The skinny shadow that usually followed him around was nowhere to be seen. Maybe the rumors about Hiccup in dragon training were wrong after all...

Gobber trudged past them and hefted open the gate to the arena's tunnel, motioning for them to follow. As they filed in behind him, Astrid gripped her axe handle tightly, her insides curling in anticipation. Even the others seemed to feel some measure of apprehension, falling silent as they shuffled past the weapons hung on the walls. History weighed heavy in the air; for generations, members of the Hooligan tribe had trained to kill dragons in this very spot, with these very weapons.

Gobber heaved open the second gate at the end of the tunnel and stepped aside, letting them surpass him. Astrid led the others forth, unable to keep the awe from her face. As a kid, she had watched others train from the stands up above, and now she was here, in the center of the arena. This time, she would be the one conquering the fire-breathing monsters.

"Welcome to Dragon Training!" pronounced Gobber from behind them.

Astrid soaked in those glorious words. "No turning back."

"I hope I get some serious burns!" Tuffnut seemed to have his priorities in order.

"I'm hoping for some mauling, like maybe on my shoulder or lower back," chimed in Ruffnut.

Astrid thought about the red marks on her mother's forearms, a memorabilia from a battle where she'd slain not one, but two Monstrous Nightmares. "Yeah, it's only fun if you get a scar out of it."

A sarcastic voice piped up from the entrance of the arena. "Yeah, no kidding, right? Pain. Love it."

They all swiveled around to find Hiccup standing there, holding an ornately carved axe like he had no clue what to do with it. So the rumors were true after all.

"Oh great," grumbled Tuffnut. "Who let him in?"

Gobber ignored him. "Let's get started! The recruit who does best will win the honor of of killing his first dragon in front of the entire village."

Snotlout shot Hiccup a sly look. "Hiccup already killed a Night Fury, so does that disqualify him, or...?" He trailed off as the twins sniggered.

Astrid shook her head and turned away, trying to tune out Tuffnut as he made some pithy rejoinder. Gods, she was surrounded by immature morons.

She went to stand in the center of the arena, the twins falling in on either side of her, followed by Snotlout and Fishlegs. Gobber clomped past them, pausing only to push Hiccup into place next to the husky blond teenager.

The blacksmith came to an unsteady stop by a set of massive iron gates, bigger than those at the entrance of the ring. "Behind these doors are just a few of the many species you will learn to fight!" He began pacing. "The Deadly Nadder, —"

"Speed: eight; armor: sixteen," Fishlegs muttered, unable to contain his excitement.

"—the Hideous Zippleback, —"

"Plus eleven stealth, times two."

"—the Monstrous Nightmare, —"

"Firepower: fifteen."

"—the Terrible Terror, —"

"Attack: eight; venom: twelve!"

Gobber rounded on the boy. "CAN YOU STOP THAT?!"

He sighed, grabbing a handle that stuck out from the wall. "And… the Gronckle!"

Astrid fought down a smile as a hesitant murmur drifted over from her left. "Jaw strength: eight."

The blacksmith paid no heed to the whisper, shifting his weight and gripping the handle more tightly.

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" Snotlout had noticed the movement and stepped forward in alarm. "Aren't you going to teach us first?"

Astrid's eyes widened as Gobber grinned, his iron tooth flashing brightly. "I believe in learning on the job."

He yanked the lever down, and all hell broke loose.

 **-0-0-0-0-0-**

Astrid swung her axe down, chopping a log neatly into firewood. She paused to wipe the sweat off her brow and adjust her kransen. Through the storm clouds, sunset painted the sky in hues of pink and orange.

The first day of dragon training had been disastrous. No one had managed to wound the Gronckle, but that hadn't been the object of the lesson. Today had been a crash course in survival.

The twins had been disqualified first, too busy fighting each other to pay attention to the dragon. Fishlegs had been next, nearly getting his arm blasted off. Then Snotlout and Hiccup had both decided to flirt with her instead of surviving, an error in judgment which had nearly gotten Hiccup killed.

She had been the only one to come out of the ordeal unscathed. While everyone was struggling to regain their breath, Gobber had proceeded to lecture them on different defensive maneuvers and strategies. And when the panting had subsided, he had made them run around with shields until lunchtime.

The rest of the day had been spent on various chores, though Astrid had managed to practice with her shield and axe for an additional two hours. She was unused to carrying a shield, and her back ached from the extra weight, but it was all worth it. She was already top of the class, and if she kept working hard, she would be the one to kill the Monstrous Nightmare at the end of training, just like her mother before her.

She scanned the horizon. Her parents would be gone for another two weeks at least, if past expeditions were anything to go by. Astrid sent up a quick prayer to Frigg for their safe return, then stowed her axe inside the house and headed to the Mead Hall for dinner.

The fare was plain, slightly-burned chicken with a meager serving of potatoes and vegetables. Gobber sat a few tables away, drinking ale with some older warriors and ignoring the teens as they ate. Hiccup was nowhere to be seen.

The rain was pouring down outside when Gobber finally ambled over.

"I hope you all used your afternoon productively." He circled the table, eyeing each recruit in turn. "Today was easy compared to what's ahead."

He pointed a finger at the twins. "You two need to learn to cooperate. Remember, the dragons are the real enemy."

Tuffnut jabbed a thumb towards his sister. "You wouldn't say that if you'd lived with _her_ all your life."

"You took the words right out of my mouth," quipped Ruffnut, a smirk dancing at the corners of her mouth.

Gobber shook his head. "Fishlegs, you need to put your knowledge in practice. You can't kill a dragon by reciting statistics at it. And Snotlout, if you get distracted outside the ring, you'll be dead."

Fishlegs flushed guiltily, but Snotlout continued to pick at his food with a bored expression. Seeing that he was getting nowhere, Gobber opted for some class participation.

"Alright, where did Astrid go wrong in the ring today?"

Astrid, who had pondered that very same question all afternoon, answered first. "I mistimed my somersault dive. It was sloppy. It threw off my reverse tumble." But the shield practice today had gone a long way to correcting that mistake.

"Yeah, we noticed." Ruffnut curled her lip.

"No, no, you were great! That was so 'Astrid'." Snotlout had finally perked up.

"She's right, you _have_ to be tough on yourselves." Gobber looked up as a small figure approached their table. "Where did Hiccup go wrong?"

Ruffnut pounced. "Uh, he showed up?"

"He didn't get eaten," supplied Tuffnut as the drenched boy bypassed their table, dodging Snotlout to grab a plate and cup.

"He's never where he should be." Astrid spoke over the twins, her gaze following Hiccup as he settled down at an adjacent table. He wouldn't be dripping rainwater everywhere if he'd walked over from the smithy. Where had he been?

"Thank you, Astrid." Gobber smacked the twins on the back of the head before producing a familiar, leather-bound book. "You need to live and breathe this stuff."

He swept aside a few plates and dropped the book on the table. "The Dragon Manual. Everything we know about every dragon we know of."

Thunder rumbled through the great wooden doors, and Gobber paused, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. "No attacks tonight. Study up." He sidled off, leaving them to their own devices.

"Wait, you mean _read_?" Tuffnut was incredulous.

For once, his twin agreed. "While we're still alive?"

"Why read words when you can just kill the stuff the words tell you stuff about?" Snotlout slammed his fist down on the table, scattering plates and silverware.

Fishlegs, on the other hand, could barely contain his excitement. "Oh! I've read it, like, seven times. There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face. And— and there's this other one that buries itself for like a week—"

"Yeah, that sounds great." Tuffnut's voice dripped with sarcasm. "See, there _was_ a chance I was going to read that…"

"…But now…" Ruffnut rolled her eyes dramatically.

Snotlout pushed away from the table. "You guys read, I'll go kill stuff."

The others tumbled after him, Fishlegs still reciting dragon facts.

Astrid watched them go. If that group was her only competition, she shouldn't have any problem finishing first in dragon training. She piled her cup onto her plate, eager to get to her warm bed.

"So I guess we'll share?" Hiccup had wandered over, looking hopeful.

Astrid slid the book over to him. "Read it."

She got up, heading towards the door. He stammered something else as she walked away, but she paid him no mind, her thoughts already on sleep.

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 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts; reviews are always welcome and appreciated.**

 **UP NEXT – The Nadder Disaster: "Today's lesson is all about ATTACK!"**


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